


Picture Perfect

by WonderBoy



Series: Get Some [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Cumshot, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nude Photos, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sloppy Makeouts, This entire thing is a mess, but with those pesky feelings again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 03:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13309302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: “How long have you been able to pick me up?” He asks, trying not to sound nearly as winded as he feels. It’s at least 60% the kiss itself, but the fact that Lance can lift him, apparently easily, is doing strange things to his chest in that moment.Lance’s mouth is still on his skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and throat so that he can feel when Lance smirks. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”Keith’s mouth is dry and it feels impossibly difficult to swallow with Lance nuzzling against him. “…Yes.”Lance laughs triumphantly and the vibration leaves a warm buzz under his skin. Was it fair that even his laugh was beautiful? Not in the slightest.*Another (mostly) stand-alone sequel to Unfair (and Obvious), but actually requested this time ;)





	Picture Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read "Unfair," Keith gives Lance a blowjob in the kitchen, and it starts their FWB relationship. "Obvious" has no explicit content, but Lance gives Keith a bunch of hickeys. "Secret Keepers" involves, as the title suggests, the boys keeping secrets. There is no explicit content and it was technically written after this one, so it can really be read before or after, whatever floats your boat. And they both have more feelings invested in this fwb relationship then they're letting on. That's about all you really need to know.
> 
> I actually really hate this fic right now, but I think about 60-70% of that hatred comes from the feeling of "i can't stand to look at/edit this for another second" so maybe I'll come back to it in a few days and feel better. Or it actually does suck, if so, I'm deeply, deeply sorry.
> 
> This was supposed to have an actual plot, but about 1500 words in no one even had a dick out yet and I realized a) it was going to be too long if the actual plot portion stayed in and b) after a certain point the two didn't really correlate enough to warrant them being in the same piece as it was. So the other part of this story will probably be the last installment of Get Some before the final one when they get their shit together and deal with their feelings (assuming I don't get any other wild ideas for these two).
> 
> Lastly, Lance turns on some music in the fic. I didn't actually have a song in mind when I thought of that scene, but I was listening to Oops x Wus Good by Louis Mattrs and You Again by Garrickson and Qole when I wrote it, so do with that what you will.

_Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head_  
_Oh my_  
_Oops, there goes your skirt dropping to your feet_  
_Oh my_  
_Ooh, some kind of touch caressing your legs_  
_Oh my_  
_Ooh, You're turning red, who could this be?_  
_Oh,my_

_-Oops x Wus Good, Louis Mattrs_

 

* * *

 

Keith always had some vague idea of Lance’s strength, he was a swimmer and obviously needed good upper arm strength. But Keith never expected him to be strong enough to pick him up. And, like usual, underestimating Lance, comes back around to bite him. Because there he is, Lance’s hands just under his ass, being lifted into the air. Reflexively his legs wrap around Lance’s hips and he bites Lance’s lip in surprise, but Lance doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the rough treatment. A moment later, Keith is placed down on the kitchen table, but Lance’s hands stay on him long enough to pull him impossibly closer. Keith groans at the close contact and that only seems to encourage Lance to hold him even tighter.

Eventually Keith manages to pull away for air, even as Lance pulls at his hair in resistance.

“How long have you been able to pick me up?” He asks, trying not to sound nearly as winded as he feels. It’s at least 60% the kiss itself, but the fact that Lance can lift him, apparently easily, is doing strange things to his chest in that moment.

Lance’s mouth is still on his skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and throat so that he can feel when Lance smirks. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”

Keith’s mouth is dry and it feels impossibly difficult to swallow with Lance nuzzling against him. “…Yes.”

Lance laughs triumphantly and the vibration leaves a warm buzz under his skin. Was it fair that even his laugh was beautiful? Not in the slightest.

Keith reaches for him, pulling Lance up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, forcing him to focus. “My question still stands.”

Lance shrugs one shoulder. “I’m not as wimpy as I look. But that’s all you’re getting. I mean, c’mon Mullet, I can’t lose all my mystique or what would you keep coming back for?”

Keith comes up with about a dozen reasons without a second thought, but the words catch in his throat. He knows Lance is joking. He never expected an answer, and certainly not a heartfelt one.

“Could you carry me all the way to your bedroom?” He asks instead.

The obvious challenge in the question ignites a spark in his blue eyes that has Keith’s stomach in knots. Diving back in, Lance leaves a particularly harsh bite along the curve of his jaw. “Hold on tight,” he whispers, breath hot against Keith’s skin.

Keith definitely does not need to be told twice, before he’s yanked back off the table. His legs go around Lance’s waist immediately and he can’t help but laugh as Lance stumbles away from the table.

“You’re going to drop me,” he accuses and one of Lance’s hands snake under his shirt to pinch him in retaliation for the comment. Keith muffles a laugh against Lance’s shoulder and he feels, more than hears, Lance’s own echoed chuckle.

Other than a brief tussle with the living room couch that Lance doesn’t see on his way towards his room, they arrive without a hitch. When Keith feels his back hit the worn wood of the door, he easily reaches behind him to twist open the doorknob.

He grins down at Lance. “After you, _sir_.”

Lance tilts his head up to press a soft kiss to Keith’s chin, before pushing the rest of the way into his room. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind him. “See? Ye of little faith, I did not drop you.”

Keith is about to reluctantly take back his tease, only for Lance to unceremoniously drop Keith onto the bed. He bounces and a pillow falls to the floor beside him. He glares up at Lance, who smiles down at him innocently. “You dropped me!”

“ _That_ was for doubting me.”

Keith rolls his eyes, but Lance doesn’t give him time to make a fuss. Crawling onto his bed after Keith, Lance eagerly resumes their kiss from before. His hands push Keith’s shirt up, warm fingers trailing over his sides with just enough pressure not to tickle. Keith’s own hands trail over Lance’s back, reveling in the feeling of muscles moving under his hands as Lance sprawls over him. Keith doesn’t actually have any past experience or evidence to back up the sentiment, but if it feels anything like the warm weight of Lance simply crowding in his personal space, carving out a spot for himself before Keith can even realize what’s happening, he’s pretty sure Lance could smother him and he’d die happy.

For now, he’ll take what he can get by slipping his hands past the waist band of Lance’s jeans and grabbing his ass. Lance laughs into his mouth, not bothering to pull away from their kiss as Keith gropes him.

“Eager much?” he teases, teeth nipping at Keith’s bottom lip.

Feeling devious, and okay, maybe a little eager, Keith yanks Lance’s hips closer to him, his own hips rolling up to meet the motion in a deliciously rough grind that has Lance biting a curse into his collarbone. Keith hisses at the sharp pain.

“Seems like I’m not the only one,” he pants, hoping he sounds cockier than he feels.

Lance mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “evil,” before he sits up. His legs straddle Keith’s hips while Keith’s hands come around to rest on Lance’s thighs. It’s a phenomenally good view, especially when Lance strips off his t-shirt in one easy movement. The planes of his smooth, dark skin are only interrupted by the dramatic curve of black ink tattooed into his side.

The first time Keith saw Lance’s tattoo, he thought that the image of a shark was too harsh for him, but after seeing him swim, all doubts went out the window. Lance had an awkward grace on land, almost as if he was a graceful child but had to relearn how to move when he grew into the lanky, long-limbed young adult he now is. There’s an ease in his movements that Keith has always been envious of, but at times Lance seemed to forget himself and trip over his own feet or drop something without warning. In the water, none of that residual clumsiness existed. The water practically parted for him as he darted through it. And afterwards, when he won the race Keith should have known better than to get talked into, he showed off a nearly predatory grin that had Keith’s heart and stomach doing flips in tandem.

The shark is a perfect image for him.

Keith wants to run his hands over Lance’s newly bared chest and see what kind of new marks he can leave, now that he can see the hickeys he left the last time they were together like this have faded, but Lance hooks a single finger into the collar of his shirt and pulls him up with a clear message. Keith sits up, bending his legs to keep Lance in his lap as he shifts, and pulls off his own shirt, tossing it to join Lance’s on the floor.

Lance leans down to kiss him again, surprisingly soft, and his hands trail down Keith’s arms to his wrists. Keith should really know better by now, but he lets his guard down, far too willing to get lost in Lance’s gentle touch, only for Lance to push him roughly back down. His captured wrists are pinned above his head by one of Lance’s hands. His other hand trails down his chest, blunt nails leaving burning trails, but Lance’s eyes never leave his as he looms over him with that damn smirk, and Keith can’t even bring himself to complain about the trick.

“Don’t move,” Lance commands.

Keith’s fingers reach out towards the headboard behind him. Once he finds a handhold, he nods.

Lance presses a sweet kiss to his forehead and slips off the bed. “Good boy.”

Keith turns to watch Lance move around his room. His awkward grace is clearer in a place so obviously his own. He knows the room almost perfectly, but his own bad habits leave obstacles of dirty clothes and textbooks for him to dance around. He grabs tissues and lube before pausing at his desk. A moment later, slow piano notes flow from his speakers.

He looks over and winks at Keith. “In case the roommates get home early.”

He tosses his loot onto the bed beside Keith, before resuming his position, strong thighs on either side of Keith’s hips. The slow drawl of the song seems to be the pace Lance wants to match as he leans forward to kiss Keith again. He licks into his mouth, the ghost of a smile stuttering his movements when Keith leans up into the kiss. His hands trail between them, carefully undoing Keith’s belt and jeans.

Keith’s grip on the headboard tightens when Lance slips a hand into his jeans, rubbing his hard-on through the thin fabric of his briefs. Keith moans into the kiss and Lance seems to take it as his cue to move on. Breaking the kiss, Lance moves on to mouth along Keith’s jaw. When that doesn’t garner a large reaction, he nips at Keith’s earlobe, tugging at the soft skin until a shiver racks down Keith’s body.

“ _Ngh_ , how long are you planning on teasing?” Keith asks, itching to touch Lance, but not willing to risk him stopping everything because Keith moved.

Lance simply hums along with the song, rather than answering, but he moves on. He licks a slow trail down Keith’s throat before settling on his collarbone, sucking over the fading bite mark he left before. When he’s done there, he moves to hover over the middle of Keith’s chest, hot breath ghosting over Keith’s flushed skin. His hand slips inside Keith’s briefs, and Keith’s hips jerk at the direct contact.

He feels Lance’s smile pressed against his chest in a chaste kiss.

“You know I’m going to take care of you,” Lance sighs, dipping lower and placing a second kiss down his chest. His hand slowly pumps along Keith’s cock despite the constricting fabric. “Why are you so impatient?”

“I don’t believe in delayed gratification?”

Lance snorts. “It’s called ‘savoring the moment.’”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Then I don’t believe in that either.” He looks down, trying to meet Lance’s eye but Lance resumes peppering kisses down his chest instead, inching his way down the bed as he does. “You know if I could use my hands I could speed things up for the both of us.” Keith suggests.

Lance _tsk_ s at him, one hand pinching his side. “Don’t ruin my fun.”

And Keith wants to continue arguing, riling Lance up until he forgets what his original plan was and gets rough and reckless, but suddenly Lance does something with a twist of his wrist that has Keith _whining._

Lance growls something low in his throat that Keith can’t make out, but a moment later he pushes the band of Keith’s pants lower. He barely has a moment to appreciate the change before Lance’s hands are on him again. One hand jerks him off, still torturously slow despite Lance’s sudden intensity, but the other is heavy against his hip, holding him down for when Lance takes the head of his cock into his mouth.

Keith drops his head back and groans. Lance _finally_ takes the hint and picks up the pace, hand and head moving in tandem. He flattens his tongue against the underside of Keith’s dick as his head drops lower. Saliva drips down the length of his cock, slickening the drag of Lance’s skin against his. It’s rapidly turning into one of the sloppiest blowjobs Lance has ever given him, and Keith can’t believe how much more into it he gets when that thought crosses his mind.

He forces his head up again when he feels Lance pull away. A string of saliva connecting Lance’s swollen lips to the head of his cock breaks as Lance sits up, but Lance doesn’t even bother to wipe it away from where it glistens on his chin.

“What are you doing now?” Keith asks and he really shouldn’t sound as wrecked as he does.

Lance simply smiles at him, and unbuttons his own jeans. Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, he shoves them down far enough to pull out his own flushed cock. His eyes flutter shut and he drags his bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers wrap around himself, thumb pressing just under the head of his cock.

Keith wants to touch him so bad it hurts. “Lance,” he calls and he’s not even sure what he wants to ask anymore, but it brings Lance’s attention back to him. Which is enough for Keith.

His eyes are dark and intense as they scan ever so slowly down Keith’s body. “You look so good right now,” Lance whispers. Dropping to his hands and knees, he crawls back up the bed to straddle Keith again. He dips, a slow drag of skin on skin, to reach Keith and press a kiss to his mouth.

Keith rolls his hips up, grinding his dick against Lance’s. Lance sneaks one of his hands up into his hair, burying his fingers in the dark locks and pulling, hard. Keith groans against Lance’s mouth, arching up into him all over again. The kiss is nearly as sloppy as the blowjob, with Lance’s tongue shoved in his mouth and drool slipping down his chin, but Lance’s nails scratch at the nape of his neck and his hips are rolling against his own and it feels so _good._

They break to catch their breath, and Lance sits up again. His face is flushed, lips red and swollen, and Keith wants to kiss him all over again, even as he struggles to slow his own breathing down to a more reasonable pace. Lance grabs the lube from beside Keith, pouring a generous amount into his hand before he tosses it somewhere off the bed.  The lubricant is cold against his flushed skin, but Lance’s hand is warm and nimble as he spreads it over Keith’s cock and then his own. Keith manages to keep his head lifted and eyes open long enough to watch Lance slant their dicks together, hips rolling slow and easy as he wraps a hand around them both and pumps in time with his thrusts.

Keith groans again, throwing his head back and trying to focus on the feeling, and the subtle sounds of Lance’s own stuttered breathing.

Was the image of your own cock in someone else’s hand supposed to look that good? Probably not.

“Lance, _please_ ,” he begs, and he’s not even totally sure what he’s asking for except to come _right now_ , but Lance seems to know anyways.

His grip tightens and speeds up. His thrusts become more determined, harsh but precise as he rolls over Keith. Keith’s own hips buck up to match his pace. Lance starts to whisper over him, something about how filthy and good Keith looks in his bed, and Lance has strangely proven himself to be rather quiet during sex, but he certainly knows how to use his words.

His orgasm hits him in a suffocating crash and he comes crying Lance’s name, and a few choice curse words. Come shoots across his abs, and even up to his chest, but Lance doesn’t stop moving against him. When Lance finally comes, the only warning is a quiet whimper Keith has become hyper aware of since they started messing around. His come adds to the mess on Keith’s stomach, and if he wasn’t feeling so wrecked, he might’ve cared.

Lance likes to kiss, a lot, but he especially likes to kiss after an orgasm, but it feels like a minute or more has passed and the only thing Lance has moved is his hand, off of their dicks. It takes most of his current energy to lift his head again, but Keith looks up, to find Lance watching him with hooded eyes.

“You have _no idea_ how good you look right now,” Lance says, and his voice is strangely hoarse. He lifts his hands, fingers making a frame in the air. He whistles low. “Oh yeah.”

And because Keith has almost nonexistent self-preservation skills, the next words out of his mouth are: “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Lance freezes, his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. “Can I?”

Keith feels like his brain is short circuiting. “Wait, you actually want to?”

“Dude, you really have no idea how good you look in my bed,” Lance tilts his head. “I could try and take one so your face is in shadows. No one would know it’s you. Not that I would ever show someone unless with your explicit permission, not that I-” Lance cuts himself off, making a strange choked expression before he shakes his head. “Just, you can trust me, but if you were worried about that, I could do something to keep your identity hidden.”

Without other physical distractions, Keith can feel how sore his arms are from how tense he must have been, and the wooden headboard has surely left imprints in his hands, but something stops him from moving. Something in Lance’s expression. “I know I can trust you Lance.”

“So…can I?”

Keith licks his lips. “I guess, yeah,”

Lance leans over him, carefully not touching Keith, except to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “I promise this won’t take long. Your arms have got to be killing you by now.” He pulls away to grab some tissues, wiping his cock and hand off before tucking himself back into his pants.

Lance stumbles off the bed, muttering something about lighting and angles. Keith already regrets his choice, but something keeps him from telling Lance to forget about it. The same thing that kept him rooted in place. Why did this dumb boy affect his choices so easily?

Lance turns on a lamp by Keith’s head, shooting a warning as an afterthought, before darting back across the room to hit the switch and turn off the overhead light. When he climbs back on the bed, his DSLR hangs from around his neck. Keith isn’t sure why he thought Lance would just snap a quick picture with his phone and be done with it, he really should know better by now, but the sight of the digital camera suddenly has him nervous. Lance, stupid considerate empath that he is, notices immediately. One hand holds the camera, adjusting the settings, but his other drops to rub comforting patterns over Keith’s hip. He hums along to whatever is still playing on his phone. And if Keith doesn’t look at the camera, or think about it, he can feel himself start to relax.

Until Lance holds the camera up to his face to focus the shot. He lowers the camera with a frown. His hand reaches out again, running against Keith’s side. “I’m going to take a couple shots to see what works best in the lighting and with the shadows. You don’t have to pose, just stay like this. And you can look them over when I’m done.”

He knows Lance is offering that last option to make him feel better, but the idea of his face being attached to an erotic picture isn’t nearly as concerning to him as all of the internet safety lectures he had to endure in high school suggested it should be. He’s not sure how he’d feel seeing a picture of himself so thoroughly wrecked in Lance’s bed however, no matter how “good” Lance claimed he looked. So, he shakes his head. “I told you I trust you, don’t worry about that.”

Something unfairly soft lightens Lance’s eyes. But Keith can’t bring himself to stay under that gaze and he relaxes again, dropping his head to rest against Lance’s pillows.

His arms really are getting sore.

He loses count of how many times he hears the soft click of Lance’s camera over the music. Eventually, _finally_ , Lance looms over him again. Carefully, he reaches for Keith’s hands, easing them away from the headboard himself. The tips of his fingers rub soothing patterns into his palms and wrists as he helps Keith lower his arms.

“Feeling okay?” He asks quietly. There’s a crease in his brows as he watches Keith clench and unclench his fists. Keith knows the look well. Lance still wants to look over his pictures some more, but he prioritized Keith’s comfort over it. Keith had seen him do it countless other times for his other models. It always felt nice to be on the receiving end of Lance’s concern, but Keith knew what he really wanted to be doing.

“I’m fine as long as I can sit up now. Go back to your pictures.”

Lance waits for Keith to actually sit up before he retrieves his camera from where he had placed in on the bed. His expression immediately transforms into his focused, critiquing frown. The expression might have been intimidating, or even deprecating to a model’s self-esteem considering how dark it was, but it was just another one of Lance’s many expressions that Keith was far too fond of. Lance put his whole heart into everything he did, but usually with a smile on his face. When his expression turned solemn, it showed just how serious about that particular thing he was. Keith always wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of such a look. But now, even though it was just pictures of him and not Keith himself, he could feel a blush rising on his cheeks. Something tight twists in his gut. Maybe it’s better if he is never, directly, under such a look.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” Keith says quietly.

It would seem like Lance hadn’t even heard him, except for how he moves out of the way so Keith can slip out of bed without difficulty. Turning off the music on his way, Keith cracks open the door and listens for sounds of Hunk or Pidge in the apartment. Other than the quiet beep of Lance’s camera, it’s quiet. Still, Keith darts across the hall to the bathroom, not willing to risk a leisurely stroll with drying come on his chest and lube on his dick.

He makes it without incident. His back drops against the wood heavily as the bathroom door shuts behinds him. The image of himself in the mirror across the room mocks him. His cheeks are still flushed an embarrassing pink. A mark over his collarbone is already darkening into what will most likely be another hickey.

He hopes Lance actually did keep his face in the shadows. He’s always heard the camera sees more than the eye, and he’s not ready for Lance to see through his camera, what Keith sees in the mirror every time they’re together.   

**Author's Note:**

> As always you're welcome to come yell at me, request new things, or just stalk the progress of other fics on tumblr @ thathopelessromantic.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


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